


Shattered Glass Slipper

by MidoriEmmi



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriEmmi/pseuds/MidoriEmmi
Summary: There is no doubt that Yuki is destined for the stage, and Momo will do anything it takes to let him shine again. The magic of five years is but for a fleeting moment. Momo doesn't want it to end; they have come so far. Yet, in the midst of validating his existence in the eyes of Re:Vale's fans and himself, he learns that maybe fairytales do not always end the way they're supposed to. Oneshot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wow it's been a while since I last posted 8'D First fic of 2017 and for Re:Vale! The idea for this came when I was toying with the idea of "What if that reunion ended in a bittersweet way...", and thus, this fic was born. Please don't hurt me ;-;

It didn’t occur to him the possibly horrific consequences of his words, until they tumbled out of his mouth in an undignified heap.

Yuki stopped marking the rough scores in his hand, as his widened blue eyes stared unblinkingly at him. Silence hung between them for the longest time and Momo could only bring himself to mouth two words.

“Oh _fuck.”_

Yuki put down his pencil. Momo realised he had hit a switch.

And he wasn’t sure it was the right one.

“I’m sorry,” Yuki started, “But can you repeat what you just said?”

A chance. Yuki was giving him a chance to completely disregard everything he had just said. Everything that had taken him an entire week’s worth of sleepless nights and way too many daydreams just to muster up the courage to say. The _mistake_ that took all of him to ungracefully let loose like the worst case of verbal diarrhea in the history of verbal diarrhea.

“...five years, Yuki. Team up with me for just five years.”

He decided the chance to throw it all away was not one worth taking.

“O-Or at least...until _he_ comes back,” Momo added, feeling like his lower lip might bleed any moment from how hard he was biting on it.

Yuki’s freezing gaze shot right into the very core of his soul.

“I already told you. It’s over, Momo. It was never meant to begin in the first place.”

Momo bristled. “Yes it was! You can’t tell me after all that you guys have been through that-”

“ _Momo._ ”

He stiffened at the icy tone. His senpai, his friend, his idol, was already starting to pack up and his plan is gone and oh how stupid he was to screw up this bad-

“ _Yuki,_ ” he stressed right back.

Yuki half turned his head, looking back as if pitying his most loyal fan for having loved the music he would never again have the chance to create. Yet all Momo could see in grey irises were black holes of loneliness. Of a shattered dream and mangled passion once whole.

Momo looked down at the pale wrist in his grip. He had never been more grateful for his impulsiveness until this moment.

“That song you were working on…”

“I was just finishing it up,” Yuki snapped, attempting to wrestle his arm back, “Don’t get any weird ideas.”

“Yuki...you still care.”

“The only thing I care about is how some brat with a fragile glass heart thinks he can just assume he knows everything about me and force me to-”

Momo forcefully let go..

“But you were still creating-”

The older man grabed the stack of papers from inside his bag, shoving it into Momo’s chest. A couple of pages fell to the floor, and Yuki straightened back up.

“I wasn’t creating,” he softly said.

He watched as the other bent down to pick up the stray pages. The rustle of the papers mocked them both. The desperation of one who was still clinging on. The frustration of one who had all but given up. Momo handled each page as gently as if they were ancient artifacts, and he fumbled trying to arrange them in order. It dawned on him only when they all come together.

Yuki was right, he wasn’t creating.

He was saying goodbye.

It could mean little else when he’s shrouded in darkness, a click of the wooden door the only indication anyone else had ever been in the room with him.

Momo didn’t give up. The phrase simply did not exist in his dictionary, especially at the present moment. Just because an idol no longer knew what kept him going did not mean his fans should just forsake him. That was when he needed his fans more than anything else in the world, and Momo would be damned if he let himself be swayed by popular opinion. All those stupid rumours, did those tabloids have nothing better to do?

Yuki was never incomplete, he was never imperfect in any way. He was simply with someone who made him better. Perhaps that became his weakness; that he was no longer worthy of standing on his own.

Momo looked down at the store-bought lunches and a complete digitalised version of the scores his idol had thrown his way. It had been two weeks since that time. If he waited any longer, he wouldn’t even be able to catch a glimpse of that bright silver hair any longer. Momo jumped to his feet as soon as Yuki entered the room. He was met with an unimpressed gaze.

“I didn’t know this room was already taken.”

The closing door bounced off the edge of neon green sneakers. Yuki glared at their owner, folding his arms.

“What do you want? I told you, it’s over.” Yuki spoke softly, yet the unsaid ‘explain or else’ had Momo’s hairs standing on edge. The younger man handed him the newly printed scores.

“Yours.”

Yuki scoffed the moment he finished scanning half the first page. He looked as if he might throw the stack back at Momo, but then thought better of it. Momo shifted nervously as Yuki looked through each and every page, stopping at times to read through Momo’s minor edits on his own work. When he was done he looked up at hopeful pink eyes.

“What do I have to do to make you stop?”

Momo’s face fell. Yuki reached into his bag, pulling out his music player, his empty lined score sheets, and his earphones. He went over to the nearest chair, placing the printed scores and piling the rest of the items on top.

He turned around. “I came here just to do this. Look, Momo, I know you’re a good kid. You’ve been supportive, passionate, everything anyone would want in a fan. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us so far, but today is where it ends. And before you say anything, I am not someone you should aspire to be.”

For the first time, Momo found his usual retorts eluding him.

There was so much to be said, but at the same time didn’t need to be said. Yuki was for real this time. All his music creating items were on that chair and he had no intention of ever looking back. He needed to say something to stop him. Anything.

Anything.

“...are you that upset that I changed your song?”

It was a half-hearted murmur, but one that resounded in the soundproofed room. Yuki blinked, casting a momentary glance at the stack under his belongings before looking back at Momo.

“No.”

“Then why,” Momo found his grip on his emotions loosening, “Why are you so intent on never ever starting again?? This is not what _he_ would have wanted!”

Yuki inhaled, knuckles going white from clutching the strap of his sling. Chin-length silver strands curled slightly near his chin and his taut lips. Any mention of _him_ was a recipe for disaster. Momo grit his teeth and punched the wall beside Yuki.

“All I asked for was five years,” he continued, even as the other’s eyes refused to meet his own.

“Why won’t you leave me alone??”

“Because I can’t!!!” Momo punched the wall again unflinchingly even as the pain coursed up his arm, “Because I know you still love music, you still love writing songs, you still love the spotlight, and most of all you still love to sing! Tell me, Yuki. Tell me what I must do to make you…”

His vision was becoming blurry. Hot tears trailed down his cheeks, and when he blinked it just felt like more were threatening to overflow. He hated looking so weak, he really did. There was nothing noble about trying to move the unmoving with one’s tears but for the love of all that was good, he was already begging with his hands clasped in prayer.

“What must I do,” Momo choked, both hands moving to grasp Yuki’s shoulders.

“What must I do...to make you try again?”

Yuki stiffened under his grip, mouth half open in shock. Momo sobbed, and made sure he looked into the other’s eyes. He too was for real, and he didn’t believe Yuki actually wanted to leave. His idol was just trying to run.

And if so, he was just going to catch up to him again and again to wake him up.

Yuki sighed, gently pushing off Momo’s arms. He ran a hand through his silky hair and looked at the chair once more. There was a conflicted look in his eyes, but it disappeared as soon as he looked away.

“If you’re so intent on forcing a miracle out of me,” he finally began after half a minute, “Then show me you have what it takes.”

It was vague statement. Yuki was all of exasperated and annoyed when he made it, and Momo wanted to smack himself for not digging for more details then. Any messages to said person just yielded sarcastic remarks, numerous taunts and jabs at his supposed ambition.

_“Is that all you got? If you need my help to impress me, you have nothing.”_

Momo could only stare at Yuki’s music player and the scores as he pondered about how he could impress his idol. Frankly, he didn’t have much of a chance. Yuki was capable, but that meant he was a strict teacher. Never once had he truly praised Momo or made any positive comment on anything he did at all. To fulfil the ultimatum of someone like that...well, Momo was in quite a pickle.

To be fair, Yuki’s music player held a lot of clues. A fair number of his- _their_ songs dotted the playlists, mixed with those of other artists. He even found a couple of instrumentals. It was almost sad the melodies had no lyrics to go with them-

Momo shook his head vigorously. Focus, he told himself. Now wasn’t the time to get starstruck. If he had any resolve to push through with his agenda, he needed everything he could get his hands on. Including his determination.

A full month. A full month of listening to Yuki’s playlists for hours everyday from top to...somewhere in the middle and he still couldn’t put his finger on anything. The lists boasted over a thousand sound files and Momo despaired at the notion of having already heard them all and still not have an idea of how to even start his plan. He scrolled listlessly through song titles he already knew by heart. Then he stopped.

“...the shuffle button..” he muttered to himself.

Of course. He was so intent on committing everything to memory he hadn’t realised his idea of starting top down would never get him anywhere. The moment he hit the button, an unfamiliar song started playing; another artist’s song. Momo sighed in disappointment, and continued doing so each time the song finished only to jump to one he may or may not have heard before. He wasn’t clear when he started muttering the word “please” each time it was about to jump to a new song.

He only knew he was hoping for, quite ironically, a miracle.

Momo jerked his head up, an earpiece falling out of his right ear. This music was new. He grabbed the player and scanned the screen almost desperately for the name of the music. The young man continued listening as he clumsily stuffed the fallen earpiece back into his ear.

It was intense from the beginning, the notes grasping at his chest as if the pianist was using them as a way to look into his soul. There wasn’t a specific name attached to this song; it was an unnamed child. Momo gasped when vocals started appearing. He immediately turned the volume up.

Vocals...the other original compositions had no vocals. The music for this one, while intense, didn’t overpower the strong, clear voice of the singer. Momo could hear every word.

He could hear Yuki sing again.

There was a slight discrepancy in volume, and Momo attributed that to the recording not being done in a studio. It sounded a little rough, and so heartfelt. The kind of voice that one could only express outside the harsh expectations of a professional setting.

Momo was so enraptured by the singing that the world around him was nonexistent for the moment. Then it halted.

The music went on, but Yuki had halted.

Momo waited. There were several more attempts to continue the song from where he left off, but the magic was suddenly gone. Eventuall,y Yuki sighed in resignation and the recording stopped.

The abruptness of it all felt like a smack in the face for Momo. It was a ride to nowhere, a journey unfinished. Re:Vale had so much going on for them, but even they had their failures, not that said failures were anywhere near subpar. Momo listened to it again, noting that the magic lasted all of one and a half minutes.

His phone pinged with a message from Yuki, another taunting reply to his message from a few days ago. Momo read it and inhaled, closing his eyes. When he opened them again as he exhaled, they were filled with fire.

_“Just you wait. I’ll prove it to you._

It took a month and a week, give or take a few days, to finish his project. Momo rubbed at his eyebags. He was sure they were bigger than his eyes at this point, but no matter, he was finally done. Continuing the melody was the hardest thing in the world; how was an amateur like him supposed to build upon such brilliance? The lyrics alone kept him up for close to five nights, written more by pure instinct than anything else.

More sleepless nights were spent revising everything, and Momo gulped as he went through the sheets one last time. It was time to show the fruits of his labour.

At least, it would have been. If Yuki actually woke up like he was supposed to.

Momo bristled, frowning at the darkening sky and then at Yuki’s bedroom window. First the taunting and now oversleeping?? How rude. Picking up a few rocks, he started hurling them at the second floor window, making sure they each made an audible sound as they hit the glass. It wasn’t ideal, but if Yuki refused to pick up his calls, he would have to wake up to this or risk a broken window.

It took about a dozen rocks before a grumpy Yuki flung open the window and glared at the culprit. Momo smiled and waved.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s great and all but maybe some other time,” Momo patted his guitar, “Are you ready?”

Yuki flipped the birds on both hands before leaning on the windowsill lazily. He propped his head up with his left arm, motioning for Momo to start.

The younger man breathed in deeply, willing his rapidly beating heart to slow down. He tested the strings of his instrument and berated himself for not doing it beforehand. He stood up straight when he was done. There was no hesitation as he dove into the intro.

Yuki’s eyes widened. That song...how could he forget? It was so promising, so beautiful and so pure and yet, he could never finish it. _They_ promised themselves it would be the best duet they would give the world. He wanted so much to make that come true.

But duets were never meant to become one.

He tried. For seven days and seven nights, he did nothing but try to salvage whatever had become of their work. Did Momo seriously think he would be impressed just because he dug out an unfinished song and performed it? If so, that brat was clearly mistaken about his standards.

The sky thundered, a light shower coming upon them. Momo gave little regard to the change in weather, continuing to sing just a little louder.

Yuki sighed. “Momo! Come in, you’re gonna get drenched!”

He was about to call out again when Momo began the second half of the song and Yuki held his breath. Momo looked like he was grinning as he launched into his own lyrics, a continuation of a journey of which a destination he knew not. The light shower was slowly turning into a downpour, yet neither moved.

It was as if Momo was using the rhythm of the rain to complement his singing. Heartrending lyrics that Yuki himself failed to write poured out of his mouth, a story of sorrow, beauty and a new beginning. Pain...Momo was in pain. He was trying so hard to reach out only to be pushed away. Yuki could see the bittersweet smile, the eyes almost close to tears. He couldn’t tell if Momo was crying, the rain was too deceiving.

Funny, why was his vision so weird? Yuki brushed a hand past his cheek, blinking in surprise when it came away wet.

“So the sorrow is contagious, huh,” he mumbled, a laugh escaping from his lips even as he cried. Here in front of him was a devoted fan, a starstruck kouhai, an aspiring musician.

Here in front of him was someone who understood what it took, and the sight was the most dazzling he had ever seen.

Yuki listened intently, even as Momo was starting to get drowned out by the rain. Momo wrapped up his final verse with the ending melody, and flashed a grin amidst his fatigue. Yuki smiled, giving a single nod as Momo whooped.

Then he leaned out the window.

“GET YOUR WET ASS IN HERE YOU DUMBASS!”

Momo’s laughter almost rang through the downpour that day as he dashed for shelter.

“Five years...hmm, sounds reasonable,” Yuki said as he pondered about it for a while more. Momo slid a piece of paper in front of him.

“Here are some milestones I was thinking we could go for,” Momo shrugged as Yuki balked at some of them, “Go big or go home right?”

Yuki put the paper down.

“You do realise it’s not going to be an easy journey right? I no longer have anything, you have nothing; and we only have five years. If you want to take back your words, here is your last chance.”

“I know we have nothing, and I’m ready,” Momo smirked as he held up the paper.

“I’m ready to take over the world.”

_“So what name would you two like to go by?”_

_Momo sputtered. They had been so busy working for their dream it hadn’t even crossed his mind what to name it. He racked his brains as his eyes darted to Yuki, who looked completely calm._

_“Re:Vale.”_

_Yuki didn’t even flinch when Momo balked and clambered closer to him._

_“What are you doing??” he hissed under his breath. They promised to start anew, continue a broken dream. Re:Vale wasn’t them. Re:Vale was Yuki and_ **_him_ ** _. Yuki patted his shoulder._

_“Please, Momo...please.”_

_It was so unfair. How could he just take something so sacred and shove the responsibility to his new partner? And how could he say those words with that blasted expression Momo could never say no to? Momo touched the hand still on his shoulder. Even if he could never hope to even match up to_ **_his_ ** _shadow, it was fine._

_He’d do anything to put his idol on stage again. The stage where he belonged._

_“Alright.”_

_Yuki held out his other hand. “To our success?”_

_“To our success,” Momo grasped the warm palm, anxious yet excited for the years to come._

...that was then. Sad memories, painful memories, they’ve been through them all. Momo inspected his highlighted hair tips, tucking stray strands behind his ears. It was hard to believe all those years ago, they were mere amateurs trying to gather shattered pieces of a dream. They had made it. Re:Vale had made it. All those years of effort paid off.

Years. How many had already passed?

“Momo! Are you done yet?”

He yelped, knocking over his juice which was thankfully, still unopened. Yuki shook his head as he entered the dressing room, righting the bottle. Momo chuckled sheepishly.

“I was just about to leave! Did you miss me so much you couldn’t bear to be apart for another minute?”

Yuki smiled as Momo slung his arms over his shoulders, and he reached back to ruffle messy curls, earning a whining protest. It was interesting how they maintained the touchy feely image both on and offscreen. Momo was and always has been a ball of positive energy. In fact, Yuki was convinced he could make anything he touched happy again.

“Maybe. We should go, we’re gonna be late at this rate and we still have a meeting with our one and only precious person later.”

“Nooo I thought I was your only precious person! Who is it?”

“Our manager of course. He wants to talk about our five year anniversary concert.”

Ah, had it already been five years? They sure went by quickly. It was quite an achievement, having reached where they were in that short period of time. They passed every single milestone they promised each other on that fateful day and more. Re:Vale had become a household name. Re:Vale was king.

Then why did it suddenly become so hard to breathe? They had everything they could have wanted and more than their wildest dreams could predict. Yet, Momo felt the tips of his fingers grow cold and clammy.

_“Five years...hmm, sounds reasonable.”_

Momo sighed as the irritated director bellowed another “CUT!” and told everyone to do the scene again. It was the seventh time he’d screwed up his lines. Try as he might, for some reason, he just couldn’t push through with that one scene. He recited his lines under his breath again.

“Director, I think we should have a break. It’s been a non-stop three hours.”

“Yuki…”

The middle-aged woman pursed her lips, discussing with her staff about the day’s agenda before calling for said break. Momo slumped against a nearby cupboard.

“Momo, are you ok? This isn’t like you.”

The younger man forced out a smile. “I’m fine I’m fine! I’m just...tired.”

It was clear he was lying, but Yuki bought it. Eventually the scene passed the director’s judgement, and Momo was dying to escape. But then, they still had the anniversary meeting with Okarin. He groaned as he removed his earrings and dressed down. His entire day was ruined because he couldn’t get that damned meeting out of his head.

The discussion went in one ear and out the other. He was thankful their company was willing to give them the opportunity to celebrate such a special day with their fans, really. He loved them, and Re:Vale would be nothing without them. The only problem was exactly that; for soon-to-be five years, they’ve chanted the name Re:Vale loud and clear. For soon-to-be five years, they’ve basked in Yuki’s brilliant light and the amazing gift that was his presence on and off the stage.

For soon-to-be five years, Cinderella spent the time of her life in the arms of a prince, dreading the arrival of midnight.

And when one dreaded something, it always arrived much too fast.

Momo didn’t want it to end. He wanted to go on for six years, seven years, ten years, twenty years. The borrowed time he had so selfishly claimed for himself, he wanted more. The borrowed throne he had so selfishly sat on, he wanted to stay just a little longer.

Five years was too soon.

Everyone everywhere congratulated them on their upcoming anniversary. The numerous well wishes just gave him more chills down his fingers and toes. Yuki had been more distant lately too. His schedule was packed more than usual, but even then he should still have time...right? Maybe they could talk, work out something. Yuki wasn’t unreasonable, he would listen. Momo checked the time on his phone before preparing to knock on the hotel room door.

“Is that so? I see…then what you found the other day...”

Was Yuki...on the phone? Momo pulled his hand back and crept closer, putting his ear to the door. It was terrible of him to eavesdrop, but something about Yuki’s tone made him want to.

“Alright...alright. I got it. Use whatever means necessary. If possible, I want him found before my anniversary concert.”

Momo’s blood ran cold. His veins felt like they had frozen over. Yuki was still looking. Yuki still wanted the original Re:Vale back. Of course he would. That was all he had been pining for since the beginning and what kind of monster would try to distract such a determined person from his goal? This was it.

His time was up.

So much happened after that. He lost his confidence in the face of Kujou, he lost his voice. He poured his heart out to Idolish7, got wrapped in Trigger’s plans, and got the scolding of a lifetime from none other than Yuki. He didn’t know what to think, even as he flew back into his partner’s outstretched arms like he always did. Then Banri appeared, and Yuki looked so heartbroken that he had no intention of pursuing music anymore. Even when Banri came over to assure him he wasn’t upset that Re:Vale had gone on to find success without him, all Momo could think about was how if he hadn’t interfered, maybe the true Re:Vale would have reunited somehow.

If he hadn’t meddled, maybe Re:Vale would have risen with its rightful members.

Sure, he smiled. He was genuinely happy they could meet Banri again. That was all his innocent fanboy heart could have hoped for; that his idols would reunite one day. Yet, fate works in mysterious ways, and Re:Vale was now his as well.

Momo brought a hand up to his throat. The warm-ups from before had failed terribly, and yet somehow, he felt like he could sing alongside Yuki again. Yuki seemed to think the same way, and Momo relished in the warmth of the pale hand grabbing his as his partner confidently told the staff the recordings weren’t needed. He smiled.

Yuki smiled back.

They appeared in front of a roaring crowd, excited shrieks emanating from the front rows. Light sticks waved about excitedly, their owners thrilled to finally see the stars of the concert. Their kouhais had done an amazing job in revving up their fans. It was only polite to take the baton and carry on that vigorous momentum.

Silver Sky started playing, and with a deep breath, Momo belted out the first line. It was perfect, more than perfect even. He caught Yuki’s eye as they stepped past each other, and that proud gaze fired him up.

Having not sung properly for so long, it was only natural Momo stumbled over some of his lyrics. But he just moved on with that wide grin of his and his boundless energy. He was Momo of Re:Vale, and nothing could stop them from conquering the stage, Japan and the world. As soon as the instrumental bridge of Dis one came on, he went straight to the front of the stage, looking for his fans.

He met a pair of blue-green eyes. Banri.

For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to move, and Yuki crashed right into him as he began the next verse. The audience gasped, but as professionals, they recovered soon enough. Momo smiled sheepishly when the song was over; Yuki would be giving him a big scolding as soon as the concert was done.

“Encore! Encore! Encore!” the audience chanted, waving their flashing lightsticks of neon pink and green.

A couple minutes of lighthearted banter later, Silver Sky started up again. Re:Vale high-fived as Momo launched into the song he knew by heart.

Perhaps he had borrowed too much, laughed too much, loved too much. They say Cinderella left her glass slipper behind, whether by accident or otherwise. It was because of that glass slipper that her happy ending could find her and whisk her away to her rightful place. But what if Cinderella had been just a little too careless?

What if while running down the stairway, her glass slipper slipped and smashed to pieces?

Momo persevered all the way to the end. The crowd had gotten even louder, if that was possible. He waved wildly to Yuki, who was on the other side of the stage giving high fives to his front row fans. They were all ready for the next song, and Momo stepped on his raised platform while waiting for Yuki to join him on his.

A frightening creak sounded and Momo froze. It didn’t look like anyone noticed, maybe the backstage staff was shifting something around. Yuki was still laughing with his fans. Yeah, that seemed more like it. It was probably in his imagination

Another creak, and this time Yuki whipped his head around.

Momo looked up.

And the lights came crashing down.

He couldn’t move. The sight of the equipment falling was almost mesmerising with all the sparks and the twirl of the loose wires. Momo wanted to run, he _needed_ to run. From the corner of his eye he could see Yuki running like his life depended on it. He was screaming something, but Momo could only hear the last thing he said.

“MOMO GET OFF THAT THING!”

If he had just high-fived with his fans like Yuki, he wouldn’t have gotten on the platform so soon. If he had just hung around a little longer at his side of the stage, he could have gotten away.

Of course, it was too late to be thinking of such things.

When he opened his eyes again, he had been knocked off the platform. His head was pounding, and he couldn’t summon the strength to get up. Momo stared at the ground beside him. Was that...blood? His blood? He could hear Yuki frantically calling his name and a vague announcement for everyone to remain calm.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

He just wanted to sleep.

Cinderella’s slipper teetered on the edge of the marble step, the prince missing it by just a hair’s breadth as it plunged down after its owner, shattering brilliantly under the full moon as the clock struck midnight.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I swear I love Momo ;-;


End file.
